BrightlyColored Wickedness
by Asphyxiatedmuse
Summary: After Voldemort is beaten, a new Lord quickly arises. With a flamboyantly gay consort! Watch as they rule the Wizarding World with pride parades and body glitter! HPDM, other pairings may come


**Summary: After Voldemort is beaten, a new Lord quickly arises. With a flamboyantly gay consort! Watch as they rule the Wizarding World with pride parades and body glitter! HPDM, other pairings may come**

**Warnings: M/M slash, lotsa stereotyping that might offend, a lot of American references and other things I haven't thought of yet. So keep your mind and expectations open! Yes, I'm starting to think this may be a crack fic.**

**Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine, little kids couldn't read it. Also, Jesus Christ Superstar and RENT lyrics are not mine. Those belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber and I forget who wrote RENT. I apologize.**

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Chapter One: The Weird Cloak or Being Evil Has Its Advantages

_It was a year after the defeat of Lord Voldemort and all of the Wizarding World was happy and joyful. Ever since Harry Potter had saved all of their asses with severe loss of his mental stability, there had been a lot of nonstop partying and celebration. But soon they were going to find out that they needed to tie up all of the loose ends before they started to celebrate…_

"Haaarryy," Draco whined from the large bed as the very same savior Harry Potter pulled a hooded cloak over his shoulders. "It's not fair that you, like, still have to wear that nasty thing. Especially after all this planning! Besides," He slid off of the red satin sheets and snaked his arms around his boyfriend's waist, loving the feel of the velvet fabric against his bare skin. "You promised me that you'd lose the cloak tonight. It's just a public announcement. You don't have to act like… What's that guy from those American Muggle movies? Something with a V…he had a nasty breathing problem…"

"Vader?" Harry sniggered and pulled the hood over his head, completely shielding his face from view. _I knew I shouldn't have let Draco see those movies. Because cloaks are _not _trashy! They're very…mysterious. And suave. _

"Yeah, him. What is it with the fucking letter 'v'? You know, it's not that great a letter. It spells out 'vagina' and it _looks _like a vagina… Voldemort with a vagina. Oh, ew! If I keep on, I'm going to make myself sick. But seriously. Get rid of the cloak, it's so trashy." He'd been telling Harry for months now, 'don't wear the cloak, they need to see the face of who they're going to follow,' and 'Harry, you remember you're a wizard right? If you're so desperate to look different, take a potion or something.' But, noooo. And now, on Harry's 18th birthday, when everything was supposed to come together, what does he do?

"But I look dashing," Harry murmured.

"You might look dashing fighting back the Fifth or whatever it was called, but when addressing the people, you need to look smart. Now if you insist on that horrible thing, at least change the color."

"Fine. If you're so eager, _you _change it."

"Fine." Draco sorted through the pile of clothes on the floor until he found his wand. He performed a complex series of hand motions and muttered some nonsensical word in Latin and in a cloud of hairspray-like smoke, Harry's cloak was now a brilliant shade of fuchsia.

"There!" Draco beamed at Harry and stood back a bit, ignoring the mortified look on his boyfriend's face. "Now you're fabulously frightening!"

"I _look just _plain frightening." Ugh. Not only was fuchsia a loud color, it actually looked decent with his black suit. Merlin damn it all. Once again, Draco was right. But he would have to be mauled by a hippogriff before he would ever admit that. There had been too many times – too many! – where Draco had been right about colors. Damn hiiiim. The brunette turned to his appearance-obsessed lover and slapped him on the bum. "Just for this, you're my bitch tonight. Got it?"

The naked male jumped and rubbed his ass. "Whenever I try to make you look good, you make me your bitch. I don't understand it, Harry? I just want to make you popular!" He began to sob dramatically, covering his face with his hands as he fell onto the bed. "Show you what shoes to wear, how to fix your hair. Everything that really counts to be popular."

To say that Harry was more than a little out of sorts would be a serious understatement. He reached out a hand to touch his irate lover only to be greeted with more muffled yelling. "Hurry, you fool, hurry and go. Save me your speeches – I don't wanna know. Go!" Okay, it was 'leave the emotional boyfriend home' time again. Honestly, if he hadn't been such a fine piece of ass when they got together in 7th year, he wouldn't have put up with these mood swings.

So with those lovely parting words and looking rather disturbed, Harry left for the Ministry of Magic.

§ § § § §

Why did the elevators take so damn long to get where they needed to be? It was more than a little embarrassing to be wearing a fuchsia cloak on your way to see the Minister, even if you were trying your best to look serious. At some unnamable floor, the last person he expected to see entered the elevator. Dean Thomas. He would have groaned, but that would have given away his disguise since Dean was sure to know his voice pretty well by now. Why was he here? Did he work for the Ministry?

"So, Harry…"

_How in the hell…? _"Hullo, Dean," he said grimly.

"Still whipped by Malfoy, I see."

"I told you before, I am not whipped. He's my sexy time lover. We're equally on both sides of the 'whipped' scale." How he managed to say that so calmly, he would never know.

"But you _are _whipped, am I correct?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, Dean."

There was a long pause, broken only by the whirring of the elevator.

"Still plan on taking over the world?"

"Every day, Dean. In fact, I'm going to have a hostile takeover of the Ministry tonight. Care to watch?"

His schoolmate shrugged indifferently. "Nah, can't. I have to get home to Seamus. You know how he can get."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Same thing with Draco."

There was another pause, this time broken by a loud ding and the opening of the elevator doors. Dean got off the platform and said lightly, "Good luck with that takeover bit."

The Savior nodded again. "Thanks."

And the doors closed again.

Soon ("Thank you, Merlin!") after that, Harry arrived at his destination. _Level One, Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

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**A/N: The next chapter will be his 'takeover' and whatnot. I'm too tired to make it the rest of this chapter. Please review! They make me very happy and the happier I am, the funnier the story gets! And if you have any ideas, please tell me some. I'd be glad to hear them. **


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